My pain, my lover and my child
by Iivari
Summary: Francis is obsessed by his son and starts abusing him in his early childhood. Matthew is raised as a good and quiet boy, but at home he is not allowed to hold back. Additionally, Francis has an amazing lover who cares for both, him and Matthew. – Franada / FrUK & UKFr – Anal, Child abuse (until now non-sexual!), maybe bondage, crossdressing, et cetera, et cetera
1. Prologue

Warnings (for the whole story):

Angst, AU, Child abuse!

Later on:  
Anal, Bondage, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Fingering, Rape, Rim, Spank, Toys (for the whole story, not the single chapter)

Disclaimer:

Hetalia, the story and all characters belong to Hidekazu Himaruya.

This will start off with a few broken scenes to introduce the whole happening. Things start at the next chapter.

* * *

"So beautiful, Matthieu…", Francis murmured, his face blushed, sweaty and his mouth warped to a kind smile. "You are my son from now on." With those words he kissed the small boy's forehead, wrapping his small frame into a soft, bright blue fabric.

Left behind as Francis turned around was a hospital bed. The woman whose shape was recognisable beneath the blankets was fully covered. Neither heart beat nor breath existing no more.

"Mon dieu you dirty little boy. You are papa's little reeker, non?", he giggled as he lifted the young boy, placing him on a soft surface. Taking a small bowl of warm water and a soft cotton cloth, he opened the diaper of the baby, starting to clean him again. "Yes, you like that, when papa makes you feel comfortable again, hm?"

Yes, Francis was a devoted and caring father, he loved his son more than anyone else. He reminded him of his dead wife every second he looked at him. He caressed his cheek as he had done with the most beautiful love of his life. Gentle. Loving.

The laugh of his adorable Matthieu warmed his heart. Because of that laugh he knew that his son loved him as well and felt safe close by him.

It did not take long that Francis felt the full extent of losing his beloved.

At night he cried when the baby did not, during the day he worked and tried his best to be there for his son. And when he played with him, the happy sparkle of his dearest child's eyes reminded him of the days when she was still alive.

"You know…", he started telling the boy, "…she could still be alive if we had not wished for you…" His voice was broken and sad. The sun shone down on both of them, their surrounding of green grass, clean air and thousands of butterflies blurred in the older man's vision as tears fought themselves to the surface, tormenting his soul.

Matthew, not knowing what was wrong with his fahter continued laughing. For him, the world was still in one piece.

At home again, Francis lay down along with his son, stroking his short, soft hair. "You have your mother's eyes. Just not her colour, but the sparkle of eternal kindness and happiness lies within them. And the shape of them… She had those big eyes you have. Those long lashes… You would die to see your mother, I swear, Matthieu… She was so beautiful. She would love you as much as I do…"

With that, he hugged his baby. "The only difference is your colour. When you were born, you had greyish-blue irises. Now they have a hint of purple in them. I hope this fades again…"

Smiling again, Francis was cleaning his little boy, bathing him this time, rubbing and washing his whole little body. "Beautiful Matthieu…", he whispered, stroking his chest, beneath his hand not just soft skin but a layer of soap as well. "You know, Papa has a new lover. A man this time, because Papa is scared of women since he lost his precious wife." Along with his words, he continued stroking his son. "And he does cruel things to Papa. He puts his fingers in places where they don't belong. He ties your Papa up, tormenting him with touches. That man shows your Papa completely new pleasures of the flesh. Too bad mon little fils is too young to experience it."

Matthew looked up at him, confused but started giggling again as his legs were cleaned with a wash cloth and Francis laughed down on him kindly.

But as he heared the laughing of his child increase and the sparkle of happiness of his wife returned to those purple eyes, something within him snapped. He was reminded of his life at times he was still married. His gentle look turned into an angry, desperate and at the same time hurt glare and before he knew what he had done, Matthew cried.

"So, Francis. You told me, you have a son. You never bring him along to our dates, I was wondering for a while if you have a baby sitter or someone else beside me who takes care of him. Wouldn't you want to tell me?" Sly, green eyes met Francis' as only luke warm tea disappeared beneath small lips. Clacking of porcallain let the frenchman know that Arhur had finished his cup finally, so he looked up, sighed and smirked. "I would never have a person beside you. I looked through a few black boards because students always look for easy jobs beside their time at university. And Matthieu is a really quiet child, good and easy in handling."

Arthur smiled, visibly content and raised his hand to ask for a waitress. "We would like to pay please!" The request came out firm but not too loud. This man was a perfect man. He knew all attitudes of being a gentleman, as well he knew every single trick of pleasuring someone. There was no kink he had not, yet there was nothing to romantic for him either. Arthur was devoted, handsome, both, a wonderful bottom in bed as well as a dominant master in roleplays. With a delicacy of feeling he always added the right amount of tips in restaurants, knew when it was his time to pay, knew when he had to be thankful for an invitation. Yes, he even knew when it was appropriate to bring a flower. The only thing that rankled Francis imensely was the fact that Arthur had no temper in quarrels and he never knew when it was time to shut up. …Well and then there was this little habit of his that he could not hold his liquor. He drank too much when they went out drinking together. Yet, he had no problem with that, because every time that happened, it ended up with him being thrown onto the matress, dominated and his brain was fucked out of his head.

At those times he was glad that Arthur lived very close and that those students he always asked to take care of Matthew were so adjustable.

As the waitress reached their table, Francis was ripped back into reality. "Together please.", Arthur answered to a question Francis seemed to have missed. At first he did not understand but as his lover paid a higher amount than he had expected, he understood.

"Arthur, you-"

"Shhh~" A finger was placed on his lips. Every other lover – at least that was what Arthur had told him – had continued talking despite the finger trying to silence his partner. So both of them were glad that both of them were smart enough to get such a subtile and gentle message.

"Your place or mine?", he breathed, voice barely audible. Francis gulped. He opened his lips and after a cracked answer escaped him, they got up and left.

* * *

Author's note:

_Well, even though I don't consider France as the type that abuses, betrays (in a relationship) or uses someone else, I kindof wanted to write this nevertheless.  
_

_For me, France is a lover, not a fighter, not a rapist. I beg everyone's pardon who thinks that France is not like this. I know he isn't. _

_Child abuse is a sensitive topic. I am against it. But it does exist, so shut your mouths and protest against the real happening, not against fanfictions. _

_Thank you._


	2. Arthur meets Matthew

Francis had been away from his son for a few hours. Before he had returned from his date, he went with him. Arthur was an amazing lover, caring for him, yet using him the way he pleases unless Francis was okay with it.

If it were for the frenchman, he would have cuddled with his partner and spent the night with him. His conscience however racked him to no end, so as soon as they had finished their act, Francis got up apologising and in a rush to return to his beloved son.

So he left.

Arthur was both, pleased that he had found such a nice father and kind lover, still disappointed that he had left so ceremonyless. His urge to catch him and pull him down to the sheets again for a round of heated afterplay almost took over but the only thing he did was kissing him goodbye hurriedly and wishing him a safe trip home.

The frenchman was now in his home again, the baby sitter paid and the two family members alone again. He sat beside Matthew's cot, watching him sleep and another smile crept up his face. "…You know, Mathieu…", he started whispering, "…I should have brought Arthur with me. Believe me, you will like him. He is the best lover papa has ever had." His firstly calm voice sounded choked at the end of his words, sadness arising anew. "Oh Mathieu…", he sobbed. "Why do you have to be here. Why has she insisted on giving you life instead of saving her own? …we could have adopted and we still would be together, you know…?" He reached into the cot, almost reaching the boy's body but then decided to simply stroke his hair. He felt the anger inside burning but it was his son. His wife had not wished for a life in violence for his son, nor for a living of Francis drenched in ire and despair. "She wouldn't want me to blame you for her death because she decided. But what you don't know, she wished for you so much, she would never have decided to exchange her life for yours. She's a- She has been a mother, you know? Her instinct told her to protect you, not her brain…"

A sudden knock on the door caught him off-guard, causing him to pull back his hand startled. He gave Matthew one last reassuring look, then headed to the door, looking through the spy hole. Looking even more confused, he opened the door. "Arthur, what are you doing here?", he asked without any furhter greeting.

"Hello as well, my darling", the brit chuckled before continuing. "The look on your face as you left worried me, you seemed… lonely? I decided to surprise you. Here, I've bought a pizza on my way here, we haven't had a proper food by now. Is it alright?"

Completely stunned, Francis watched his lover, then taking the pizza boxes from his hands, setting them aside, closed the door and pulled him into a tight hug. "You're so cute, Arthur!", he sighed, stroking his back lovingly. As they parted again, Francis continued: "You know, I just told Mathieu about you. He's sleeping so he probably did not hear me, but I am sure you want to see him, non?" Arthur, who had picked up the boxes containing their meal again by now, nodded slowly and smiling but insisted on carrying their food to the kitchen first.

"You don't look like someone who eats Pizza, you know?", Francis said as he took out two glasses, filling both with water. "Ah, and why is that?", the other blonde responded. "…You know. Pizza makes faaaat!" With that, Francis started poking Arthur's stomach, motioning a huge belly and laughing evilly. Arthur simply batted his hands away, laughing nevertheless. "I'm no woman, think of something else to tease me!" Francis simply laughed. "Oh just wait and see when you look like a whale. Never ever accuse me of not having warned you, oui?"

Arthur just wanted to respond again as both men heared a small whine getting louder and turning into a cry. "Ah, damn no, we woke Mathieu!", the father swore, getting up and reaching him in practically no time.

"Shhh~ C'est bon, mon petite. It's alright. We're here. And now you will even get to know Papa's new lover I told you about! Aren't you glad?" Talking with his son, holding and cradling him in his arms the boy found his peace pretty soon again. But Francis discovered the real problem as soon as he had picked up the child. "I know you are a little stinky-baby again, hm? Now come on, we will fix that, hm?" Poking the child's nose with his own, he dragged him to the soft surface his wife had bought as they had furnished Matthew's room during her early pregnancy and laid him down.  
"…you are a devoted father…", Arthur whispered, appearing behind Francis, sofly placing a hand on his lover's shoulder and watching both, the child and him. His eyes warm and sparkling with love. Francis leaned in the touch, almost, just almost forgetting about his duty and started cleaning and changing the boy.

x-x-x

"Isn't it hard for you to be a single father?" The brit was curious, both looking down on the sleeping little beauty against Francis' chest as they sat in the kitchen again. Arthur had made tea, the pizza still remaining on the counter.

"I kind of suffer from it… It's hard not to think about the fact that Lilian could still be alive if we just hadn't wished for him…"

"Francis… Are you blaming Matthew for her death?" The look on his face and the firmness within those green eyes were almost crushing. "No, I just… I'm reminded of her when I look at him. And when I'm alone, it hurts… I have to work, I have to care for him, I have to go shopping, cook, clean the house, pay his babysitters, play with him! I try my best, but it's stressful and … at…" Francis stops for a short moment, his expression holding an almost infinite sadness. With a soft squeeze on Francis' hand, Arthur urged him to continue. The thumb rubbing the back of his hand caringly. "…at…night… I cry… Sometimes. I miss her. I miss waking up beside someone, I miss the cuddling, the loving, the working, the joking and even the small quarrels we had sometimes … Her smile and…" A small chuckle escaped him. "Yeah, I even miss her squeals when there were spiders somewhere. … She had a little habit of running against door handles when she was tired. It made me laugh and when she was angry because of that, I kissed the hurt place and smiled at her. … She would still live, if it weren't for this li-"

"Francis!", Arthur warned. Francis hadn't even noticed it, but his grip around the child had tightened and the boy squirmed. "I'm sorry. Papa got carried away, mon cher!" Stroking the boy apologetic, he looked up at the other man. Who looked very disapproving.

"Francis, have you ever thought about seeing a doctor?", Arthur asked carefully. A questioning glance was the only answer he got. "Because of… _that_! You could have hurt him. You cannot und must not get carried away with any feelings when you have a child!"

"You say it that easy without having anyone to care for, no? Really great!"

"Francis, you don't really understand! I was not-"

"Not what? You think you are in place to give advice without any experience?"

"Just shut up and listen to me, will you? And don't yell with him in your arm, he might think you are angry with _him_!"

"But I am!"

…silence.

Francis just realised what he had said and pressed his son against his chest just a little tighter. He watched as Arthur got up, getting over to him and kneeling in front of him. "…do you know what you just said?", Arthur asked softly. Francis motioned the child away from Arthur as if a child would say "That's mine" without words. The frenchman seemed to want to protect his boy. Yet he did not answer.

"Francis. … Do you know what you just said?", the brit tried again.

"…I… I don't mean it, he is my son, I could never be angry with him! He hasn't done anything wrong." Yes. Francis' voice sounded calm, still a little desperate.

"Listen. I am no one to tell you what to do. But you are obviously angry. And according to what you just said it seems like you _are _blaming him for Lilian's death."

Francis gulped, but did not respond.

"Here I ask you again. Do you think to consider a doctor would be bad? … Or do you want to talk about it, I'm here for you!" Now it was Francis who got up, stroking Matthew's back carefully. "I bring him back. Wait here for a moment, please." Arthur watched him leaving the room, sighing but staying.

Father and child in Matthew's room again now, Francis placed his boy back into the cot, watching him. Matthew was calm but looked frightened. He did not cry and he did not scream. "…such a quiet boy you are. No need to be scared, mon ami. Papa's here to protect you. He won't do anything to you, I promise. Your Papa is just a bit confused right now, but he will be okay again. Just as you will be." Tears fell down from his eyes, drawing one small river from each corner of his eyes. They all met at his chin. "Papa just misses Mommy so much, you know? He is a little desperate and does not know what to do…" And those words caused him to kneel down in front of the bed, crying.

Arthur stood outside the room, leaned against the wall right next to the doorframe. He had been eavesdropping.

x-x-x

"Francis… I need to talk to you. Urgently.", Arthur stated as the man returned to the kitchen. Said one shot him a confused look. Arthur just pointed him to the mirror. That was all that was needed. Francis knew he was caught. "I-"

"No.", the brit interrupted. "No excuses, please. And no, I don't want to recommend you a doctor again either." He let a few seconds pass to let the message sink in. As he had hoped, his lover did not respond.

"I want to offer you my help.", he finally stated. Francis looked even more confused now. "I know we are together for only a few months now and that it is difficult because you still haven't overcome Lilian and that I am nothing more than a distraction for you, I know all that, we already talked about it. But _I_, Francis, _I _have feelings for you. And I don't want to see you like this. I want to take some of your work away from you. Let me help you."

The frenchman gulped. "…and how?", he asked with a cracked voice. "I go shopping for you. I could do the cooki-"

"No." …damn it, why did anyone refuse to let him cook? He loved experimenting, yes, but was that really such a desaster? In bed his former partners had loved it! "Sorry, mon coeur_, but I don't really want to let you cook, you know? Not that I dislike it, or so, you just…"_

_"You don't like my experiments, right?" At least, Arthur took it with humour. "…Yes", Francis admitted, being glad that the other one had laughed. "You know, Arthur. I let you, I would be really glad for it. But isn't that to much for you to always commute between your home and mine just for that?" Then, there appeared a hand at his cheek, caressing it. The lips on his. For a few seconds but without moving. Just the touch. Then a talk between those lips. "Let me do it…" Francis' breath hitched, his heart skipped a beat and as soon as he wanted to kiss the man before him, same man pulled away. "No kisses before you mean them from the bottom of your heart, frenchie.", Arthur teased. _

…dudes… I'm ashamed of the second chapter. I will delete it soon after the upload of this chapter. I really apologise for uploading it, I had a meaning behind it, yet I was not even able to manage to include it because I lost focus on writing while at it _because I hated it so much_!

Hope you at least enjoyed the current chapter. Yaaay, plot again!


	3. Violet Eyes

It's been a few days now since Francis had accepted Arthur's help. Not to have to go shopping really was a relief for him. When he was at work, Arthur even did some cleaning.

Then weeks passed. It was no rarity anymore that Arthur slept in Francis' bed, starting with the household as soon as Francis left the house. The man cared for Matthew while the physical father was not at home and it helped Francis a lot as well. He saved money that he needed by sparing the baby sitter. And it seemed like he did a pretty good job as well. One day, Francis arrived at home and Matthew was playing with Arthur happily.

On some afternoons, they sat together in front of the small boy, trying to urge the first word from his mouth.

"Je suis Papa! Et c'est ton Mama. Say hello, hm?"

"Hey, did you just say that I'm his mommy?" Francis laughed as Arthur hit his side in acted offence, then both turned back to Matthew. "I am Papa. Can you say Papa?" But all they got was grinning and silence. They sighed and gave up for that day. "You know, you have a really cute little kid there." Francis nodded, a sad expression returning to his face. "I know…", he murmured. Without any further words he got up and left Matthew along with Arthur and both of them alone.

"You really have a difficult father, you know that, Matty?" A laugh was the response. "He still blames you, but it gets easier for him. He seems less weightened recently. I-" He stopped abruptly, looking down onto the shoulder of the child. Kissing it gently and adding slight pressure on the bluish fracture, he watched the child twitch. An angry expression appeared on his face. "I will be right back, yes?", he murmured, then leaving the room as well.

"Francis!", Arthur demanded, slamming the male against the next best wall. "What-", but the other was interrupted by Arthur again. "Why has he a bruise on his shoulder?!", he practically screamed, holding his partner secure at his collar. "It was an accident, I made sure he is okay when it happened!"

"Francis. _What_. Happened?", he insisted, still holding him and glaring at him with all might. The brit was clearly scared that Francis could have done this on purpose. "I accidentally dropped the milk bottle onto him, hell, things happen! Let me go now!" Arthur slapped him across the face. "Why didn't you tell me?", he demanded further. That did not go all too well with the frenchman who immediately yelled back: "Are you dumb or what? Why did you hit me, you fucking-" Francis pushed him away, stopping himself from insulting his new partner and instead turning to leave, still shaking a little bit from before, but now he was trembling. Wether it was ire or shock, Arthur did not know, but he promised himself not to let him go unless he had an answer he was satisfied with. "Did you at least cool it a little when it happened?", the brit continued without hesitating. "Of course I did! Are you insinuating I did this on purpose?!", Francis yelled, almost ready to hit Arthur in turn. "I just want to make sure, you dumbass! Not full 3 months back you almost mashed him because you couldn't control your feelings. I _have _to make sure!" Things got louder with every passing second. "This is _my _house and he is _my _son and I can take care of him perfectly fine without having a fuck-partner telling me what to do!" Arthur slapped him again. "Tell me it was an accident and look into my eyes and _promise me _it was an accident!", Arthur roared, having Francis being still just by his murderous look.

It took a few seconds before Francis finally caught himself, stepped towards his partner and carefully placed a hand onto the other's shoulder. Their eyes were locked. "I promise it was not my intention to hurt him. … Mathieu is my _son_. Do you really think I would do this on purpose?", he asked, voice low and quiet, yet steady. His opposite sighed and stroked his hand. "You know I have to make sure. Right? It's not against you but we already talked about this. You just… Seem so unstable from time to time." His look became firmer once more. "Yet, I will definitely not tolerate you calling me a simple fuck-partner." Francis immediately looked like a kicked puppy, pulling a surprised Arthur into an excusing hug and whispered his apologies into the man's ear, almost crying again. "You will be alright again, I promise", Arthur cooed, promising things with his words he was not even sure he would be able to keep.

x-x-x

"Francis, look! The bruise has almost healed.", Arthur cheered. A smile was present on his face, lips curved up beautifully as he stroked the lightly injuried spot. France just looked, then felt like smiling as well as he finally took the boy out of his bed, lifting him and looking into his eyes, noses touching for a short moment of closeness. Arthur seemed heart-warmed and happy as he watched the two of them.

"Take care of him for a little bit", the short blonde asked and turned to the kitchen. "I get him something to eat." Nodding, Francis kept holding the boy upwards, kissing him here and there, then placing him onto his lap and stroking his short soft hair. "You are Papa's little beauty, aren't you, Mathieu?" The child giggled at this, then started laughing loudly as the parent started to tickle his belly. "With so cute eyes! When you are older, I show you pictures of your Mama, I promise, little one!" Again, he lifted him, pulling the small shirt up with his teeth and then laying his lips onto the small belly. First, he licked it gently, feeling like he was in trance, lost in feelings, lost in memories. Then, the laughing ripped him back into present and he blew air onto the child, lips still on the skin, causing a funny noise and a strong vibrating of his lips against the skin. Both of them laughed now, the sound of it alive and content. The frenchman pressed the baby to his chest again, holding it.

First, he only stroked the child in his arms, but suddenly, as everything went quiet, he felt this immense loneliness again. The sadness, the ire. "You're a good child, aren't you, Mathieu?", he demanded, voice still sweet, but overly so, something dark was layn in his words. Carefully he added preassure to his fingers, squeezing the thin limbs of the small shoulder between his fingers. First, Matthew gave a confused squeak, then a scared shriek until he finally started crying loudly, wetting himself.

A chinking of glass was heard from the kitchen and a worried Arthur stood in the door frame, watching the two but having only the view of the turned away frenchman's back. "Francis?", the other asked warningly, then getting two steps closer. The one who was spoken to turned around, kissing the boy's nose and smiling back to Arthur. "Someone wet his pants!", he giggled as he raised the kid, holding him a little bit away. Arthur smiled relieved, ruffling the soft hair. "Then I guess, Papa has to do something against that?", he laughed and nudged the man gently out of the room. But not letting him leave without kissing his neck from behind, nuzzling there carefully and licking along the cervical spine to the area behind his ear, brushing the hair away with his fingers and kissing his hairline at the temple. Goosebumps formed on the bright french skin, letting it look less silky and a pleasured sigh escaped him as Arthur finally whispered "You are mine~" into his ear.

If it were for Francis, he would immediately drop the boy, grab Arthur's hand and place them on his chest, silently urging him to tease his nipples. He would touch himself between his legs, rubbing a slowly appearing tent in his trousers and make love to the brit right where they were. But things were not that easy to deal with. So he supressed his urges, gulped down his manly needs, accidently squeezed the child a little too hard again at the sensations breaking down on him and leaving after another gentle nudge of his partner.

Arthur looked behind the two quietly, expression of relief and caring left, remained with a look of pure worry.

x-x-x

In the bathroom, Francis carefully stripped the boy fully naked, taking a closer look to his body. He had to make sure that he had not left any bruises again, Arthur would kill him. Besides, this time he had gripped him too hard, which meant that if there would appear bruises they would have the shape of fingers.

He could not find anything, so he hoped it would stay this way. He grabbed a wash cloth, wetted it with warm water and started cleaning Matthew, careful to wipe off everywhere. He recognised the hint of violet in the eyes again and bit his lip. "Mathieu", he started. "Did you know that no child is born with a specific eye colour? First, all babies have greyish-blue eyes. When you get older, the colour pigments start developing and you get your eye colour. Depending on the genes you either get Mama's or Papa's colour. Or a mix of course. Beisdes if you have green eyes like your second daddy. Green genes are pitifully weak in relation to others. So Arty is something very special~", he continued to explain, sounding factual and professional.

"And I swear, if you dare getting you mother's eyes, you have lived your longest life, you dirty little brat!", he spat, a little too loud. Arthur knocked on the door, asking why he sounded so angry.

"I just dropped everything and now the powder is everywhere!", Francis said. He felt a cold rush as Arthur tried to open the door to help him. That moment he had forgotten that he had locked the door and that the brit's attempts were useless.

"Francis.", Arthur growled. "Why is the door locked?" Francis gulped. What now? "Because I needed to take a piss myself, so I decided I would do all in one. And it would have been awkward if you'd come in while I'm using the toilet!" Good job, dude! Nevertheless his partner made a disapproving sound. Biting his lip, he opened the baby powder can and spilt some onto the floor, then quietly laying the plastic thing onto the floor and opening the door to prove it. "I was only washing him. You are still mistrusting me?", he asked almost angry. His only answer was an apologetic kiss as the other saw the mess on the floor. "Let me help you, dear?", he offered, asking smiling and stroking Francis' cheek. But the frenchman shook his head. "Let me finish first, then we can clean up, oui", he laughed, kissing the other on his cheek.

And unfortunately, Arthur nodded and turned away.

Autor's note:

Lol guys, now private complaining. Normally, I try to look on the bright side of things. But sometimes it is really hard to keep a grin up. Who agrees? (Life troubles Reason for my inactivity. I never forgot this story and you dudes. I was totally flattered when I read the reviews 3

And for **Ohihihi** who wanted to know if this is going to be FrUK or Franada – It was supposed to be Franada right from the start, but somehow things changed while writing. So I honestly cannot answer that question right now :/ My apologies.


	4. House

I am SO sorry! I love you all and thank you for the reviews everyone!  
I fixed mistakes in the previous chapters btw. Now I try to update more regularily, yet I kind of doubt that I will manage it… *is ashamed*

Btw. Having music channels running next to writing really makes me want to include stupid Gangnam Style…. Not that I am such a big fan but…. It's freaking Gangnam style XD

* * *

The door was closed again and again he locked it. A venomous look was shot at the small boy and the older one's lip was bitten by himself brutally. Then, the frenchman walked over to the boy again. "You know, Mathieu~ You are definitely beautiful." Slowly he traced a finger over the chubby belly. "Big eyes. I hope they get a little smaller. They look out of place."

Sighing, he redressed him, stroking him gently. "And I can't even hurt you because an annoying brit is watching me… And if I kick him out he might call the youth wellfare office and they would take my precious amour away from me… I don't want you to go…."

x-x-x

Arthur waited while cleaning the kitchen. He took a few fruites and mashed them. From time to time he tried it to make sure Matthew would like it.

As he was done he approached the bathroom door again and knocked. "Francis? Do you need more time? I made some puree for Matty." Francis answered that he would be there any moment and washed his hands, then redressed Matthew and lifted him onto his arms. "I'm sorry I hurt you, you're my precious, non?" Francis unlocked the door and carried him outside. "He grew a lot, don't you think?", he asked as he sat down at the kitchen table. Arthur turned around. "Yes. He put on a lot of weight too." Arthur took the boy up on his own arms and poked his nose. "How is the little yeast dough dumpling, hm?" He sat down as well, with Matthew on his lap and started feeding him the fruit puree.

"Do you think we should put him on a diet?" He watched his little boy eat doubtfully. Arthur simply looked at him and shook his head. "For a child in his age that could be fatal. He's developing fine, many children look chubby at first."

Francis nodded and watched Matthew reaching out for the bowl that contained the puree curiously. Grinning he pulled it out of reach before something bad happened. "If you want to play you have to wait until we're finished feeding you. Then you sleep. Then we play,d'accord?" The frenchman grabbed the small hand and squeezed it carefully. "I cannot believe it. He's growing up so quickly. And he is developing so fine~"

Arthur closed his eyes contently. "He is. I am so glad he is."

x-x-x

After he was fed and his mouth was wiped off, Matthew did not waste a single thought about going to sleep. Instead he tried to wind himself out of Francis' grip the whole time, pulled his hair, poked him, yes he even bit him here and there. All the father was able to do was grit his teeth and bear it and to scold the other a little bit.

"Set him down, hm?", Arthur murmured and kissed Francis' cheek. "I think he is eager to explore the living room a little bit on his own, hm?" The man gladly followed the suggestion and put him down. Matthew immediately rushed off, still on all fours. The other two followed him. "Remember when he first discovered that he had hands and feet?" Francis smiled widely. "He played with them all the while", Arthur replied chuckling. "Incredibly cute. …HEY! Don't do that!" Francis rushed forward and picked him off the curtains. "That is dangerous. We don't do this again, yes?" Matthew, lively as he was, reached his hands out again and wanted to grab the curtains. Arthur laughed the whole time he was watching them. That was a family scenery he found perfect.

x-x-x

The days passed, Francis had tried to gulp his ire down all the while and the rough sex he had with Arthur was really a nice make up for the frustration he felt, yet it became not enough.

The two man had decided to move together into a bigger house with a garden and they would share the costs. It would help Francis overcome the pain of being reminded to his wife all the time he enters their common house. It was ideal for the frenchman to let go.

The move was already planned, the new house was not bought, not even found but their imagination fit together perfectly.

"Big bathroom I guess?", Francis asked.

"With a bloodily huge shower!", the brit replied laughing. "Not that Matthew needs such a big bathroom thoug…."

"But there is no problem with us being a little egoistic, non?"

Arthur stroked his shoulder a little bit. "Aren't we egoistic with our garden wish already?" The frenchman leaned against the other's shoulder and smiled. "I get a rose garden at least. So shush and deal with it~"

"Gladly. I'll rip their blossoms and make tea out of them."

"You're so brutal…."

"Can be~" With that, Arthur kissed the cheek of his lover. "What about it?"

Francis shrugged his shoulders and giggled. "Nothing. Come on, I found a few offers. Let's look at them online and then let's visit them, okay?" Arthur agreed quickly and got up to switch the computer on.

x-x-x

A little later they went out of the house. Matthew was sleeping quietly at the back of the car in Arthur's arms, Francis drove them.

"I've been surfing online a little bit. He should be able to talk and walk soon." The quiet music in the background lead Francis' soft humming. He nodded. "I can't believe its almost two years… The time passed by so quickly, where did it all go?" His voice was melancholic. Since he had regular contact with Arthur, even his accent decreased a lot.

"You didn't lose it, love. You just had to concentrate on a lot." The brit's hands stroked the soft curls of their boy. "His hair looks a little reddish in the lights", he laughed and poked his cheek. Francis' face became even more serious. "Oh. Does it? … maybe we should cut it, he looks like a girl thoug."

Arthur did not like the idea but shrugged his shoulders. "If you think we should do it, I'm fine with it. But I find he looks absolutely fabulous." He poked him again and Matthew opened his eyes tiredly. That state did not last long though. As the little one discovered that they sat in a car and that they were driving he got all excited and grabbed everything he could reach. As Arthur leaned down he even grabbed his hair and pulled. "Ow! Matty, I already told you not to do that! OW! Cut it out, you little-" He whined and loosened the small hand. "Here, grab my finger instead. OW! Bloody hell, since when is this guy so strong?! Let go! Matty, please, be good and let go of Daddy, yes? Come ooon, you git!"

Francis in the diver's seat was highly amused. "We're almost there. Get him ready."

The car entered a parking lot and the doors opened soon after the engine stopped. "From outside it looks good, doesn't it?", Arthur asked as he looked up. His hair was a little messy from fighting with Matthew for its freedom.

"Indeed~", Francis whispered overwhelmed. "Come, give me Matthieu, I think he should come to Papa a little bit." As the boy changed the person he was held by he squealed loudly and happily and hugged him while blabbering incoherent things. Francis smiled. "So now let's go and see if we like it from the inside as well, hm?" Arthur smiled happily and went along the man inside. The salesman was already waiting.

The house was not that much of a surprise inside. Not shabby but the used wood for the ceiling and the furniture was not really convincing, Arthur did not like the colours inside as well.

x-x-x

All in all they considered it as a waste of time as they were done. Matthew had been good almost the whole time. Two times he had started crying and thankfully Arthur had gone outside into the garden with him and played with him there. The second time it had not been that easy. Whatever it was, it had disturbed him. Arthur guessed that it might have been a nightmare but they had no clue about the cause. Inwardly Francis had gulped. There was an assumption he had but he did not say it out loud.

x-x-x

Francis had brought his son to bed and plopped into his own sighing as well. Arthur sat down next to him and stroked his head. "You got better", was the murmured statement. Francis opened his eyes. "You think so?"

Arthur nodded and smiled. His voice was quiet and calm. "And Matthew is happier as well."

"I guess…", replied the frenchman. "Do you want to reduce your time of work and I go working again as well?" Francis looked at him. "Not really. Not until he is old enough for a kindergarden. I don't want him to grow up with babysitters and strangers around. He shall have at least one daddy he knows for sure…" He sat up and grabbed Arthur's hand. "So it'S about you now." A sigh echoed in the quiet room. Blonde hair fell onto small, yet manly shoulders as the brit placed his head on it. He closed his eyes. "You know, we try our best. But you need a break."

"I can take a few days off. What do you say?"

"Your choice", he replied softly. Francis nodded. He guessed he would do it.  
"Let's look for a new house. I want to leave here soon", Francis whispered and let himself fall back again. Arthur simply looked after him. The clocks kept ticking.

"We will."


End file.
